


It's Not a Big Deal (It's Alright)

by Honeyyyy



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Bisexual Arthur Morgan, Bisexual Charles Smith, Bisexual Male Character, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hair Braiding, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Minor Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Red Dead Redemption 2 Spoilers, Relationship Reveal, Secret Relationship, The violence is not too graphic but I put teen just in case, Violence, kind of, minor homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25738489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honeyyyy/pseuds/Honeyyyy
Summary: The members of the Van der Linde gang had watched the two men dance around each other for so long now, that most of them were getting tired of it.Every time they saw Charles smiling at Arthur, or Arthur braiding Charles' hair, they all thought the same thing.Just get together, already.OR5 times people wanted Charles and Arthur to get together. Plus the 1 time they found out.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Charles Smith, Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Comments: 18
Kudos: 202





	1. Tilly, Karen, and Mary-Beth (1)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I apologise for all my em-dashes. There are so many, oh lord.
> 
> I also feel that the characters really are OOC, but I hope it's not too bad.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy :]
> 
> Title From: Got It - THE BOYZ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You'd think they would've gotten together by now," Tilly said.
> 
> Karen rolled her eyes, "Yeah, it's clear they're sweet on each other."
> 
> "Think we should tell them?"
> 
> "Nah, it's pretty fun."
> 
> Tilly agreed.

"You'd think they would've gotten together by now," Tilly said, laughing under her breath. She continued sewing when she saw Grimshaw walk by not too far away.

If she caught them slacking off and  _ gossiping _ as she called it, they'd get their ears chewed off.

Karen rolled her eyes, "Yeah, it's clear they're sweet on each other." For as long as she'd known Arthur, he'd been pretty discreet with his feelings. But with Charles, anyone who wasn't in denial or blind could see there was something between them.

"Think we should tell them?" Tilly asked, glancing over to where Charles was sitting - his back to them. He was most likely making arrows like usual.

"Nah, it's pretty fun."

Tilly agreed quietly. It was pretty amusing to watch them from time to time (read: every day).

Mary-Beth chirped up for the first time, having been listening silently - focusing on her work - for a few minutes. "Isn't it romantic though?"

Karen had abandoned her work - leaving it to lie in her lap - a while ago. Though, she picked it back up every time Grimshaw walked by.

"Hah! Romantic?" She scoffed in amusement, "What, them dancing around each other?"

"Well, think about it!" Mary-Beth insisted, "In these tragic times, with all the death and crimes, they've managed to find love!"

Karen wasn't sure if she would call it  _ love _ . After all, Charles had only been with them for half a year. Could something as deep as love really blossom that quickly?

Nonetheless, she concurred to some degree, "I guess."

Tilly hummed, "They are pretty cute, I gotta admit. I saw them sitting real close the other day, just talkin'."

This got Mary-Beth excited. She perked up and grinned, "I saw Arthur watching Charles chop wood the other day! His eyes were filled with stars, I swear!"

"Filled with stars? Pfft," Karen laughed. Mary-Beth sure had a way with words. It was because of those books she kept reading.

"Hey, it's true!"

Karen shook her head. "Sure it is. I bet he was just admirin' Charles' muscles."

"Well, Charles does look strong. Wonder if he could pick up Arthur?" Tilly mused.

"I'd pay to see that."

"Oh, he can!" Mary-Beth exclaimed. Her friends looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"An' how do you know that?"

She grinned widely, happy to share the story with someone. "So, the other day-"

* * *

Charles stretched his neck as he looked out onto the road in front of Horseshoe Overlook. The forest around him was quiet, but he could distantly hear some talking from camp.

It wasn't unusual for people to be up this late, though it was strange that Arthur and Lenny hadn't returned yet.

They'd gone out a few hours ago, heading towards Valentine. Something about taking Lenny's mind off Micah and him getting arrested.

Charles knew that both Arthur and Lenny could handle themselves, and Arthur often left for days at a time on his expeditions, so he tried not to worry.

(Though he always found that he worried about Arthur, whether he wanted to or not.)

The sun had just gone below the horizon a while ago, so Charles still had a few hours before he'd be switching off with John.

A stick breaking made him narrow his eyes into the darkness. He called out the practised question, despite knowing it was most likely one of their own, "Who's there?"

A pause.

"It's me," Arthur said - words slurring. He came closer to where Charles was stationed, without his horse.

Charles barely had time to drop his carbine repeater to the ground, before Arthur stumbled and almost fell on his face.

Catching him by the waist, Charles steadied him. Arthur smelled like alcohol, so now he understood what  _ taking Lenny's mind off Micah _ meant.

"You okay?" He asked, trying to catch Arthur's gaze. His blue eyes were half-lidded and currently directed toward the ground.

After a moment, Arthur looked at him and smiled. Charles only stared - equally amused and happy - as Arthur threw his arms around his shoulders.

"Charles!" He drew out the  _ r _ in his name. He didn't seem to mind Charles' hand still on his waist (though, he usually didn't) so he left it there.

Amused at the older man's behaviour, Charles huffed at him, "You're drunk, Arthur. Go to bed." He had seen Arthur drunk a few times, but he'd never been quite this - touchy.

Arthur shook his head, swaying a bit. Charles tightened his grip once more. The chatter from camp turned a bit louder.

"Where's Lenny?" He asked.

Blinking a few times, Arthur laughed under his breath - clearly finding something funny. "Lenny," he drew out the  _ y _ , "is in camp. I think." He laughed again.

Charles would be lying if he said he didn't love hearing Arthur's laugh. Even if it was because he was drunk.

Manoeuvring them over to a tree, Charles carefully lowered Arthur to sit against it. It probably wasn't very comfortable on the ground, and his outfit would get dirty, - more than it already was - but at least he wouldn't fall on his ass.

Despite wanting to put all his attention on Arthur, Charles was still on guard duty, so he picked the gun back up and faced his body toward the road.

Though, he did stand close to the tree so he could talk to Arthur and see him if he just turned his head - which he did.

"Have fun in Valentine?"

"Yeah," Arthur yawned, "deputies tried to arrest us."

Charles tried to figure out if he heard correctly for a second. He looked fine, and Charles hoped he was - that no one had hurt him.

"Why?" He asked eventually.

Arthur snorted, "Can't remember. We got away, though. Said they'd never catch me alive." He pointed towards Charles accusingly, who only looked amused, "An' they didn't."

"Yeah, I can see that." He looked over Arthur's form. His black shirt was crumpled, two buttons open. "You should go to bed, Arthur."

"Nah, wanna be with you," his words slurred again. "You're always so hard-workin', gotta - gotta keep you company."

Charles' eyes softened at his confession. He wondered if Arthur knew just how hard-working he himself was. Charles always saw him feeding the horses, chopping wood, bringing carcasses to Pearson - he could go on for a while.

And he always went out - whether it was on his own accord or because Dutch told him to - and usually didn't sleep for days.

Now that he thought about it, this was the first time Charles had seen Arthur let loose and relax in quite some time.

Other than when they kissed. He was always like a cat preening in the warmth of the sun whenever they did that. But it wasn't very often, due to there being little to no privacy at camp.

"I don't mind being alone. I'm fine," he said to Arthur, trying to convince him to get to bed. He deserved to rest - he shouldn't keep himself up purely to be with him.

Arthur looked up at him, head lolling back against the tree. He blinked slowly at him, "Do you want me to leave?" His voice was quiet.

"Never," Charles said without hesitating.

He seemed to relax, lips tugging into a smile again. Charles loved his smile - this one, the  _ genuinely happy _ one. Not that he disliked his other ones - his snarky smirks, nervous tugs of his lips, his lopsided grins - Charles loved them all, but this one was his favourite.

Arthur cracked his eyes open, not sure when they had closed. He wetted his lips, suddenly aware of how dry his throat was.

He desperately needed some water, and he should check on Lenny as well. See if he got back alright.

But he couldn't be bothered to get up. Not when his legs felt like jelly and his head like someone stuffed it full of cotton.

And he didn't want to leave Charles either, even if he did know he was probably just a nuisance to him in the moment. It was nice of him to let Arthur disturb him when he was on guard duty.

"Love ya, Charles," he mumbled, too out of it to realise just what he was confessing. His eyes slipped shut once more, getting too heavy to keep open.

Charles blinked, dumbfounded. They'd never explicitly said that before - it was mostly implied with their gazes and actions.

But, he wouldn't lie and say it didn't make his heart swell with happiness. He smiled at Arthur - ignoring the unfamiliar heat crawling up his neck - who had now fallen asleep.

He wouldn't say it yet. He'd wait until Arthur was awake and aware of what was happening before he'd utter those words.  _ Then _ he would enjoy seeing Arthur get embarrassed that he said it when he was drunk.

Charles looked back onto the road with a small smile, returning to keeping guard. Arthur's back and neck would most likely hurt later, but Charles didn't have the heart to wake him up.

A few hours later, when the sun had just touched the horizon, John came toward Charles and greeted him. He was always punctual whenever they switched off shifts.

"Good morning."

Charles nodded at him, "John." He held the carbine repeater out for him to take, which he did. He then turned toward the tree where Arthur was still sleeping.

John followed his gaze, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw who was there. "What's he doin' here?"

Crouching down next to him, Charles carefully took a hold of his shoulder and shook him a bit. "Fell asleep last night," he said quietly as to not startle Arthur.

When he didn't receive any sign that Arthur was gonna wake up, he moved so he was kneeling. He put an arm under Arthur's knees and then supported his back with his other.

When he glanced up at John he couldn't help but be amused. He looked terrified, probably in fear of how Arthur would react if he woke up.

"I - I reckon it's better to wake 'im up. I don't think even you can carry him, Charles," he said apprehensively. He knew Charles was strong, they all did.

They'd seen him throw fully grown men like they weighed nothing. They'd seen him carry a buck on his shoulder while running. They'd all seen him break people's hands with just a flex of his own.

Though, Arthur could also do all that. He was also strong. But carrying each other? That was something else.

Charles raised an eyebrow at John, who wasn't sure if he was imagining the glint of amusement in the former's eyes.

Then he lifted Arthur without so much as a grunt. John only stared as Charles walked past him with Arthur in his arms.

(He would most likely get his ass handed to him if he mentioned that he'd seen Arthur get carried bridal style.)

Before he passed him, Charles gave John a look that was most definitely teasing, "I think I got him."

John let out a shocked laugh as he disappeared towards camp. Charles Smith was indeed a fearless man.

Mary-Beth had just woken up, and even though she'd like to be, she wasn't much of a morning person. So coffee was the first thing on her mind.

As she poured a cup, she smiled at Kieran who walked by. He nervously returned it before going over to the horses.

She took a sip of her coffee and looked around the camp. Horseshoe Overlook was really starting to feel like home. Though, she suspected they'd have to leave again soon.

When she saw Charles walk by, she almost spit out her coffee in surprise. In his arms was a sleeping Arthur, looking comfortable as ever.

Charles didn't seem to be breaking a sweat - as if carrying Arthur was as easy as lifting a feather. She only watched on with her mouth agape as he continued to Arthur's wagon.

* * *

"When was this? Why ain't you told us this before?" Karen asked - mildly betrayed, mildly shocked at the information.

Mary-Beth smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, I didn't think about it."

Tilly laughed quietly, "Well, this is just more reason why they should get over themselves and get together." Her two friends nodded along.

From where they were sitting, they could all see Charles look up when Arthur came toward him. His eyes seemed to brighten a bit.

That was another thing - Charles didn't really smile nor laugh, but when he did, it was almost always around or because of Arthur.

Arthur reached down to touch Charles' silky hair, letting it fall through his fingers. He said something they couldn't hear - though he did look in awe.

Raising his eyebrows as if he disagreed with whatever the other man said, Charles let him play with his hair while he responded.

"He'd kill anyone else if they tried to do that," Mary-Beth said. They really were romantic, even if they weren't dating nor trying to be.

"Hey, get back to work!"

They all sighed collectively, "Yes, Miss Grimshaw."


	2. Lenny (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lenny turned a page and blinked when he was met with a side-view of Charles' face.
> 
> He glanced up at Charles, who was talking to Arthur quietly. The picture was a spitting image. The drawn hair even looked soft, somehow.
> 
> Beneath the picture, there were some words written.
> 
> "Charles Smith. An angel on earth, perhaps."

"What are you drawin', Arthur?" Lenny asked from where he was seated, chin in his hand as he rested his arm on his knee.

Arthur's hand - that had been moving fluidly over the page in his journal - paused and he pressed his lips together. His eyes stopped on his pencil instead of flying between Lenny's form and the page.

"Nothin' much," he mumbled, campfire warm on his face from where he was seated. The log against his back was beginning to get uncomfortable.

Lenny smiled at him, sensing the lie. "You sure like that journal. You never let anyone see what you draw in there, do you?"

"Ain't much to see, really."

The moon above them shone brightly, but around them it was dark. Most of the others had gone to bed by now, but a handful of people were still wandering around camp.

Leaning forward on his knees, Lenny smiled again, "If it isn't much, can I see?"

Arthur mentally cursed his ingenuity. "I don't know, kid," he drawled. He really wasn't keen on showing people his work. It always made him nervous - it was like they could see right through him if they saw what he drew onto the pages.

"Oh, c'mon, Arthur. Please?" Lenny practically begged. "Just one drawing? I won't read anythin', promise."

Lenny had wanted to see what Arthur drew ever since the first time he saw him with his pencil and journal. He always wanted to ask him about it but refrained from doing so.

He didn't want to be disrespectful, but this time seemed as good a time as any. He couldn't keep putting off the question.

The hopeful grin on his face made Arthur sigh, but he kept silent. It wasn't like he'd never shown anyone his work - he'd shown Charles a few times.

But Charles was - Well, Charles was Charles. Always made Arthur feel comfortable and safe enough to show him his work without thinking twice about it.

The first time had been a bit reluctantly, but after that he always let Charles look over his shoulder when he drew.

"Please?"

Lenny's voice brought him out of his thoughts. He flipped through the pages, having made up his mind, and stopped on a spread of huge, white bull moose. 

He'd stumbled upon it when he was up past Annesburg - standing tall and proud in the middle of the lake - and he knew he had to draw it.

"Fine," he grumbled, handing over the journal with reluctance. He wouldn't admit it, but he had a soft spot for Lenny.

He grinned triumphantly, accepting the journal. He didn't look at first, instead asking, "Am I the first to see what's in your infamous journal?"

Arthur shook his head briefly. "Nah," he chuckled quietly, "second, actually."

"Second what?" A deep voice asked.

Lenny looked up behind Arthur and smiled, "Oh, hey Charles!"

Nodding a greeting, Charles sat down next to Arthur, although on the log instead of the ground. Charles' thigh was touching Arthur's shoulder and arm.

They always sat close to each other whenever they could, Lenny noted. Closer than most people would dare with either of them.

If one didn't know them the way Lenny and everyone else in the gang did, one'd think they were really intimidating - which, to be fair, they were.

But together, when Charles and Arthur are around each other, they seem so harmless and - pure. Which is baffling since they are both capable of killing someone with their bare hands.

Lenny was suddenly struck with a memory of what Mary-Beth had once asked him - when they were both relaxing by the campfire, same as the one he was sitting by now.

_ "Don't you think Charles an' Arthur should get together? They seem sweet on each other, don't they?" _

He'd been a bit confused at first. Charles and Arthur? Sweet on each other? He didn't believe it. And besides, Arthur had almost married that woman a few years back - so how could he be interested in another man?

But then Lenny had watched them a bit more, and he noticed a few things. And he told himself to get over himself - that there was nothing wrong with two men liking each other. That there was nothing wrong with liking men and women.

After all, Lenny knew what it was like to be discriminated against simply for being himself, so why should he judge someone that way.

So now, he sometimes spoke to Mary-Beth whenever she wanted to gush about how romantic she thought Charles and Arthur were.

"To see my journal," Arthur explained, twirling the pencil in his hand as he now didn't have his journal.

Charles hummed lowly, "You showing Lenny?" He was a bit surprised. Arthur usually disliked showing people such a side of him.

But he supposed Lenny was one of Arthur's best friends, so it made sense that he'd show him.

"Apparently," Arthur muttered.

Lenny laughed wholeheartedly, making Uncle who was asleep against a tree stir for a moment. Lenny turned the book so it was facing him.

He looked down at the page Arthur had chosen and promptly froze. His eyes widened in awe and his mouth was left ajar.

Charles smiled softly at his reaction, nudging Arthur with his leg. The latter grumbled in embarrassment.

"Wow," was all Lenny could muster up the intelligence to say. 

"It ain't that good," Arthur said, ignoring the weight of Charles' stare on him.

"No, I -" Lenny blinked at the drawing, admiring every detail and stroke that looked like they had been made with utmost care. "Arthur, this is amazing!"

The artist himself licked his lips and looked down at the ground. He'd been drawing for as long as he could remember. Even before their feud with the O'driscolls started, before he got a  _ five thousand _ dollar bounty on his head - before he learned to  _ shoot _ , he'd been drawing.

Since day one. He sometimes feels that he knows drawing better than he knows himself. Yet he still can't take any compliments on his talent.

"I've tried to tell him," Charles said knowingly, "he doesn't believe it."

Arthur huffed bashfully, "Everyone can draw."

"Not like that," Charles stated. Arthur glared playfully at him, but he only stared at him - eyes conveying a message he couldn't say out loud.

"Yeah, Arthur. This is really good!" Lenny said, glancing between the two older men who were staring at each other so warmly, that he felt like he was imposing on something unsaid. "You could sell this stuff."

Arthur looked away from Charles, and Lenny swore he could see red creep up his neck, "Doubt that."

Lenny shook his head at Arthur's continued denial. He looked back down at the drawing and felt the urge to see more.

"Can I look some more?"

Arthur pursed his lips and Lenny expected him to say no, but he waved a hand in the air dismissively. Lenny took that as a  _ yes _ .

He turned the page and saw a close up drawing of a woodpecker. Arthur sure had an eye for details. He flipped another and blinked when he was met with a side-view of Charles' face.

He glanced up at Charles, who was talking to Arthur quietly. The picture was a spitting image. The drawn hair even looked soft, somehow.

Beneath the picture, there were some words written.

_ Charles Smith. An angel on earth, perhaps. _

Lenny smiled at the text. Who knew Arthur was so poetic. Before Arthur demanded his journal back, Lenny decided to turn to the last page and see what Arthur had been working on just a few minutes earlier.

He paused as he registered what -  _ who _ was on the page. "Is this me?"

The drawing was how Arthur saw him, from where he was seated. The campfire was a bit to the left - flames looking so real that Lenny could almost feel the heat from them.

Then, was the chair Lenny was sitting on and Lenny himself. The detail in his face and outfit amazed him. The stars and trees in the background were even beautiful.

Arthur, who looked almost nervous, coughed. "Alright, I reckon that's enough." He held his hand out for his journal back.

Lenny returned it, smiling giddily. He couldn't believe Arthur drew him. He felt like it was an honour and briefly wondered just how many of them Arthur had drawn.

"You're full of surprises, Arthur," he said. "They're amazing, really."

Huffing, Arthur closed the journal and put it back in his lap. "You're too nice, kid," he said while shaking his head.

"Arthur," Charles said suddenly, making said man turn his head and raise an eyebrow at him.

"..What?"

"You're amazing."

Lenny was a hundred per cent sure that nobody would believe him if he told them that  _ the _ Arthur Morgan's face was currently a bright red - that rivalled the colour of Uncle on a warm day.

He ducked his head down and tried to hide his face with his hat. Charles looked amused, while Lenny was still speechless at seeing Arthur  _ blush _ .

_ Yeah, Mary-Beth, _ he thought. _ They really should get together. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware most of Arthur's drawings are kinda done in a hurry, and therefore don't have a lot of detail. They're rough sketches, but I decided to change that to fit this chapter more.
> 
> I believe that if he had more time, Arthur would draw more details :]


	3. Hosea (3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he wasn't so adamant about not meddling in people's love lives, Hosea would have smacked him in the head and told him to just kiss him already.
> 
> Though, he could understand why he wouldn't want to. Some people were quite vocal about their distaste for same-sex couples.
> 
> Hosea sighed, turning back to his polishing. The world was cruel and confusing, that was for sure.

When Arthur had returned from a ranch owned by a family called Downes a few days ago, - having been collecting a debt for Strauss - he'd been strangely quiet.

Everyone had been a bit confused - save for Micah - but Dutch had simply told anyone who asked that  _ he's just tired _ . Though, Hosea wasn't sure if he believed that himself.

Hosea now knew that he certainly didn't believe those words - after days of the unusual behaviour - so he was going to find out by himself.

"Arthur," he called out, the man in question grooming his horse like he did whenever he had the time.

He looked up at him without faltering in his combination of brushing with the brush and his hand. "Hosea."

"You alright, my boy?"

Now he stopped, raising an eyebrow. He squinted at Hosea like he was trying to tell why he would ask such a question. "Sure," he drawled, "Why?"

"You've been quiet," Hosea remarked, trying to sound casual. "Somethin' happen?"

They all knew that Arthur wasn't one to show his emotions. If you came off too strong he'd understand what you were trying to do and run off like a horse that stepped on a snake.

"No, don' think so," he said. Hosea saw right through him. The way his voice rose a bit toward the end and the way he avoided Hosea's eyes.

He'd known him far too long to be fooled that easily.

"Arthur," Hosea said accusingly, making said man press his lips together. "What happened at that ranch?"

Scoffing, Arthur started brushing his horse again. "Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout, old man. Nothin' happened."

Hosea kept staring at him. After a moment he sighed and Hosea knew he was getting somewhere.

"I almost beat a man to death and got the damn debt for Herr Strauss. That's it," he said - words spoken through clenched teeth.

Hosea chose his words carefully, not wanting Arthur to put him back on square one by leaving. "Did he deserve it?"

"Nah, 'course he ain't," Arthur said. He looked pained. His head was filled with the memories of the man begging him to stop. "Didn't realise what the hell I was doin' 'til his wife an' son came out."

They looked horrified - scared. Of him. It didn't sit quite right with him. Sure, he didn't mind being feared by other outlaws or even the law. But innocent, good people?

It didn't feel right.

He didn't want to admit it, but he hated Strauss for making him go there. Even more so, he hated himself for doing it.

The man had suffered from a coughing fit right after Arthur had beaten him. And if he distanced himself from the man in fear that he'd get that bloody spit on him - well, you didn't hear that from him.

Arthur Morgan being afraid of a cough - of a virus or disease? He really was pathetic sometimes.

"Well, you stopped, that counts for somethin'," Hosea said sincerely.

"Does it? He was sick - real sick, TB I reckon. And I still decided to beat him, over -" he clenched his fist "- over some damn money."

Whenever Charles told him he was a good man or similar, Arthur denied it. He wasn't. He killed people, robbed people, and said stuff that you couldn't take back - no matter what - without batting an eye.

Charles on the other hand? He was good, as much as one could be in a group of outlaws - naturally so. Arthur had seen Charles be as nasty as everyone else in camp, but it wasn't without reason.

They weren't saints. None of them were, he knew that. But Charles seemed to be as close to a good man as they could get. So naturally, he didn't believe him when he told Arthur he was good.

But one day about three months ago, back in Blackwater, Charles said something that made Arthur  _ try _ harder to be the man he thought he was.

_ "Bad people usually don't admit it, Arthur." _

_ He laughed dismissively, "Been told too many times to deny it no more." _

_ "Do you want to do bad things?" _

_ "Nah, 'course not. I just - get so angry. And it ain't like I can stop when I've been an outlaw this long.' _

_ Charles frowned, though Arthur was facing forward so he couldn't see it. He placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. _

_ "There's always opportunity to change, and besides, bad people don't care if they're bad. You're a good man, Arthur." _

Since then - like his eyes had been opened - he tried to be better. To be nicer, to appreciate the small things, do good whenever he could.

And as cliché as it sounded, it felt like the world was a brighter place now. Whenever he went to Valentine he saw the colourful flowers on the fields and deer grazing about.

The dogs running around with their tails wagging excitedly always knew to run up to him when he came around now, aware that he would always pat them.

Dutch had looked at him amusedly when he stopped to pat the Bluetick Coonhound he always saw, asking since when he was a dog person.

But he tried, he tried to be better. Charles knew that, and he appreciated him for it -  _ loved  _ him for it, he'd said a week or two ago.

* * *

"Hey, Arthur?"

"Yeah?" He replied, stifling a yawn.

"Remember when you got back after going drinking with Lenny?" Charles asked.

Arthur genuinely wasn't sure what he was about to hear. He always was a lousy drunk, so his memories of that night were quite hazy.

He only briefly remembered going to keep Charles company after getting back to camp. Then he woke up in his bed, somehow.

"Sure..?"

"Remember what you said?"

He was getting a bad feeling about this. Did he say something stupid? Something rude? He would bet all his money and possessions on that he embarrassed himself.

Though, he seemed to do that pretty often around Charles and he never seemed to mind.

"Nah, I don't remember much."

Charles was quiet for a moment. The sound of an owl hooting in a nearby tree echoed into the forest - growing darker by the minute. "Said you loved me."

Arthur blinked, "Oh."

"You mean it?"

He looked away, clearing his throat. He felt the familiar heat - that always seemed to be present around Charles, but also a heat he never felt around Mary or Eliza - start to creep up his neck.

"Yeah," he admitted quietly. Even if he lied (which, why would he?) Charles would see right through him.

"Arthur."

He looked up reluctantly, knowing fully well that his face was red by now. Charles' eyes were surprisingly fond as he placed a hand on his knee - thumb rubbing soothingly.

"I love you, too."

He angled his hat down, but from the laugh he heard from Charles, he'd say he failed in hiding his embarrassment.

"You shy on me now, Morgan?" He leaned in to get a better look at his face. "After everything we've been through?" His voice dropped further, "After everything we've done?"

Arthur grumbled and crossed his arms, "Please, shut up, Mister Smith."

"Oh?" Charles stared at him silently for a moment, before he laughed. Arthur turned his head to look at him - to admire the twinkle in his eyes - and couldn't help but join in the laughter.

Charles took him looking up as an opportunity. They were alone - having gone out to hunt a day ago - which was a rare and precious moment.

He ran a hand up Arthur's neck and pushed his hat off with the other. Arthur didn't seem to care as he inhaled sharply when Charles leaned forward and caught his lips with his own.

It always got his heart pumping - kissing Arthur. He was glad to know it had the same effect on the latter even after months of being together.

Pressing their lips together was a comfortable and safe feeling, even if it was usually days between them. Sure, they sometimes snatched fleeting ones from each other, when no one was looking back at camp.

But these kisses - long ones they could bask in the softness of - were rare and therefore  _ oh so stunning. _

Charles didn't think he'd ever tire of hearing Arthur's breath hitch whenever he pulled back for a second to catch his breath.

So, this was a familiar dance between them. And they wouldn't have it any other way.

(Except maybe more often.)

* * *

And because Charles thought Arthur was better than he was - well, he was.

Hosea shook his head at his words, "Perhaps - beating him, was extensive. But I believe it's not your fault, son."

"If he dies it sure will be."

"No, it won't. Besides, it was Strauss that sent you to do that. If anythin', shouldn't it be his fault?" He asked rhetorically.

Before Arthur could deny it any more, he patted his shoulder comfortingly, "I catch you sayin' anythin' other than that, I'll have you regret it."

Stifling a laugh, Arthur shook his head. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, old man."

Hosea ignored the teasing insult and suggested an idea he'd had for a day or two. "How about I take you out huntin' again? No bears this time."

Arthur shrugged loosely, "Sure, why not. Now, or -?"

"Was thinkin' we could head out tonight if you're up for it. Caught word of a white bison up in the Grizzlies."

"Ain't that the place we  _ just _ got out of? Thought we agreed to never set foot in that snow again," Arthur looked confused.

"Well, with proper preparation, I'm sure it'll be nice. Could get your mind off other things too. God knows you need a break," Hosea said, holding a hand up when Arthur opened his mouth. "Just say yes or no, son."

" _ Yes _ , fine, sure. I'll see you later, then."

Hosea smiled at his dismissal, "Of course."

As Hosea walked away he passed Charles - who seemed to be heading toward Arthur. He nodded at him, "Mister Smith."

"Matthews," he returned easily.

Glancing over his shoulder after he'd sat down to polish his revolver, Hosea almost shook his head in exasperation.

For as long as he'd known Arthur, the man had always been a bit thick-headed. Now, Hosea didn't actually believe Arthur was as stupid as he often joked that he was.

But seeing the way he was looking at Charles right now - eyes softer than they'd ever been - he almost thought that Arthur was completely dense.

If he wasn't so adamant about not meddling in people's love lives, Hosea would have smacked him in the head and told him to  _ just kiss him already _ .

Though, he could understand why he wouldn't want to. Some people (Micah, his subconscious supplied) were quite vocal about their distaste for same-sex couples.

That mindset would always escape him.

Hosea sighed, turning back to his polishing. The world was cruel and confusing, that was for sure.

* * *

"Ready to leave, Arthur?"

He looked up and nodded even as his eyes scanned camp. They stopped on something and he waved his hand toward them in a beckoning motion.

Hosea turned to see Charles walk up to them, a bag slung over his shoulder.

"Oh, Mister Smith, you joining us?"

He nodded, eyes drifting to the other man beside him. "Arthur invited me. Hope it's alright," when Hosea smiled he continued, "Bison are - important to me."

Hosea understood that. Besides, Charles accompanying them would be good. He'd make sure Arthur relaxed, if he himself couldn't make him.

"Well," he clapped his hands together, "You gentlemen all set?"

Two nods were directed at him and soon they all saddled up, riding out of camp with greetings to Lenny standing guard.

* * *

"If you hold it like this it'll be steadier."

Hosea wasn't sure if they realised just how  _ close _ they were standing. Charles stood right behind Arthur, guiding his arms that were holding his bow.

He carefully adjusted his grip on it, his chest against Arthur's shoulder. Neither of them seemed to mind nor notice how close they were.

Finding it amusing but - sweet, Hosea kept quiet. He continued getting the fire set up, so they wouldn't freeze.

They arrived in the Grizzlies not too long ago, but it was dark and cold so they decided to set up camp before they continued looking for the bison.

Since then, well, Arthur had started by asking Charles if he was holding his bow correctly, because his arms always ached.

Charles had asked to see how he held it and then helped Arthur adjust it so it'd be steadier and more comfortable.

But the only thing Hosea had gotten out if it was just how comfortable Arthur was around Charles and vice versa.

Whenever other people in camp patted their backs or shoulders, they seemed to accept it. But with each other, they instead seemed to actively seek out the other's touch.

It only made Hosea more exasperated with their stubbornness to not confront their feelings. Hell, Arthur hadn't even talked to Hosea about it yet - like he had with Mary and Eliza.

After another hour or so of talking and discussing where to look for the bison the next day, Hosea and Charles both went to bed. Arthur volunteered to stay up - just in case.

Though the other two didn't let him until he promised to switch with Charles after a few hours.

* * *

Arthur nudged Charles in the side as they walked through the thick snow. Charles glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Look," he pointed to the left of them.

Charles' gaze followed Arthur's finger and he felt his eyes widen when he saw it. The bison - white as the snow beneath them - trudging next to a lake.

Hosea came up behind them after a few moments, "What's wrong-?" His words trailed off as he also saw the bison.

They were far enough away that it wouldn't notice them, but Arthur still kept low as they moved closer to it.

"I know we came out here to hunt," he started, "but I don't reckon we should kill somethin' like this."

Charles smiled to himself, admiring the way the bison moved - so effortlessly beautiful. "Agreed." He turned to look at Arthur, placing a hand on his neck gently, "Thanks for bringing me."

Arthur looked up at him through his lashes, and Charles knew that he was unaware of the fact that he was just as beautiful as the bison.

He was a sight to see.

"Sure, though it was Hosea who knew about it. Thank him instead," Arthur said.

Hosea was watching the bison, a bit surprised that it was actually real and not just a rumour. He glanced at the two men next to him, almost rolling his eyes at the way they seemed to be enamoured of each other 

Maybe the world wasn't as cruel as he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very happy with this chapter but I hope you liked it either way :]
> 
> Sorry for the pacing too - if it was confusing or weird.


	4. John, Sadie, and Javier (4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way Arthur was looking at Charles right that moment, was exactly how Jake used to look at her.
> 
> Javier looked over at the sound of her laugh, "What?"
> 
> She waved a hand dismissively, "Nothin', just - they certainly seem like a married couple sometimes."
> 
> "Yeah, guess so. Maybe they would be if -" Javier frowned for a second, "- you know. They could."

"Good mornin', Marston," Sadie said as she sat down next to him, resting her elbow on her knee.

He nodded at her, "Hey." His gaze was fixed on Jack who was playing with Cain - who had joined them in camp a few days ago.

"You gettin' along better, now?"

John knew she meant his relationship with Abigail and Jack, and he nodded. He hadn't cared for a long time, but now he was trying to be better. Trying to be a father.

She smiled lopsidedly at him and John was reminded of just how full of life she was, when she wasn't arguing with Pearson or putting bullets in O'driscolls with fury in her eyes.

"About time," she said, only half-joking, "was startin' to think Arthur was gonna take care of the boy better than you."

John laughed shortly, "Yeah, me too." He still felt - angry, at how Jack seemed to like Arthur more than him sometimes. But he knew why. He knew he had no one to blame for that but himself.

He also knew that Arthur only wished him and his family (if he could call it that) the best, and that he took care of Jack because he cared for him. The same way he cared for everyone in camp.

He really was different now, compared to the man he was - who seemed to care for no one - less than a year ago.

John wasn't sure what made him change, but he certainly didn't mind. If anything, it made him want to be better too.

The way everyone seemed to go to Arthur to talk or ask for advice, was nice to see. And other than Bill, Micah, and Sean's occasional comments on it - saying he's gone soft - everyone else also seemed happy at his change.

Though, it had been apparent ever since before the Blackwater robbery that Arthur had changed.

It'd been subtle at first, saying good morning to everyone and bringing in more food to camp. Then it had gradually transformed into asking if anyone needed anything whenever he went out, and helping people - even strangers on the side of the road - more.

If you asked John, Arthur would be better off leaving the gang and starting a new life with someone, as he didn't seem like an outlaw so much anymore.

But they all knew Arthur would never leave the gang. If you even suggested that, he'd sneer at you and leave.

"You seen 'im today yet? Arthur, that is," Sadie asked glancing over at him.

John shook his head when he realised that he had indeed  _ not _ seen him. He wasn't sure if he had even seen him yesterday.

Sadie pursed her lips, "He didn't say nothin' about no job." She hadn't spoken to him for a while and yesterday when she was looking for him, she realised that no one had gotten as much as a glance of him.

"You ask Hosea or Dutch? They usually know where he's gone. Charles too."

Sadie shook her head, "They went into Rhodes earlier. Don't think Charles is here, neither."

John arched an eyebrow at her, seeing Jack still playing with Cain out of the corner of his eye. "He ain't?"

She chuckled as if he was blind for not noticing, "'Course he ain't. Wherever Arthur goes, he goes. Thought you would've noticed."

Blinking, John turned his gaze to the campfire in front of him. He'd ever thought about that, but he had noticed how close they seemed.

"Morning!" Javier joined them by the fire, sitting down on the log opposite to them, smiling at them.

"Javier," Sadie said, "You seen Arthur?"

He cut a chunk out of an apple he'd brought with his knife. "Yeah, saw him leave with Charles early yesterday," he pointed the knife at John, "During my guard shift."

John nodded, remembering that he'd switched off with him that time. "They say where they were goin'?"

Javier looked in thought for a second, before he popped the apple piece into his mouth. "No." His eyes drifted behind Sadie, toward the forest. A smile grew on his face again, "Speak of the devil." He nodded toward something.

They both turned their heads, though John had to lean over to look past the tent behind him. Charles and Arthur both rode into camp, mouths moving as they talked quietly.

They hitched their horses, and before John could stand up to walk over to them, he heard Jack's excited voice.

"Uncle Arthur!" He ran over to them with quick steps surprising for his short legs. "Here!" He reached out his hand to give him something.

Arthur looked at it for a moment before accepting it, "Flowers?" It was hard to tell if the small smile on his face was from amusement or happiness.

John smirked to himself, amused at the sight. He ignored the part of him that also wanted flowers from Jack.

Jack nodded as he smiled at Charles, who returned it politely. "It's for uncle Charles' hair!"

At this, Sadie, Javier, and John all blinked in confusion.

Arthur seemed to understand as he huffed a laugh, "Right, yeah. You remember that?"

Still smiling happily, Jack nodded once more. "Yeah! Will you still do it?" He looked so hopeful that it'd be impossible to say no to him.

Arthur glanced at Charles who looked amused, which was always a sight to remember. John was still amazed sometimes that the man  _ could _ feel amusement and happiness.

Charles tilted his head for a second, "I don't see why not."

The trio by the fire were all still very confused at what was happening, but decided to look on quietly to see what would happen.

Lips tugging up slightly, Arthur gestured toward the table that was unoccupied. Charles raised a dark eyebrow at him.

"Now?"

Arthur shrugged loosely, and the former huffed before going to sit down at the chair. Jack smiled brightly as Arthur helped prop him up on the table.

John wanted to go up to them and ask what the hell they were doing, and why it seemed like they kept secrets with his son.

But when Arthur moved to stand behind Charles - grasping his long hair gently with his hands - he stopped himself.

"What're they doing?" Javier asked quietly, seemingly not wanting to disturb the others. John shrugged, having no idea.

Arthur gave the flowers back to Jack, who held them happily. John wasn't sure if he had ever seen his son look so happy.

The flowers were a simple red but they complimented Charles' black hair wonderfully. Like a sunrise' colours bleeding into the dark night sky - turning it a hundred shades of red.

Movements unusually ginger, Arthur brushed through Charles' hair carefully. He split it into three parts and then placed the flower into the middle, twisting and turning his hair as if braiding was as natural as breathing.

John blinked. He never knew Arthur could braid hair. He couldn't do that and didn't recall Hosea ever teaching them that.

Every few moments, Arthur accepted another flower from Jack's eager hands. He seemed as curious to see the result as John did.

"Didn't know Arthur could braid," Sadie muttered, leaning onto her arm. She saw how gentle his movements were. Saw how Charles seemed unable to wipe the soft smile off his face.

Laughing under her breath, she ignored the pang of hurt at the memory of Jake. The way Arthur was looking at Charles right that moment, was exactly how Jake used to look at her.

Javier looked over at the sound of her laugh, "What?"

She waved a hand dismissively, "Nothin', just - they certainly seem like a married couple sometimes."

"Yeah, guess so. Maybe they would be if -" Javier frowned for a second, "- you know. They could."

John listened to their conversation quietly. He never thought that Arthur would find anyone he loved again. Not after that woman - Mary something.

He was glad that maybe Arthur had found someone again - even if it was a man. Even if it was Charles. Though, he knew he shouldn't assume things.

Maybe they were just very friendly.

Sadie snorted, "I don't think they're even together. Too dumb to realise, I reckon."

Javier laughed but stifled it with his fist. He'd certainly seen how they were with each other, but it seemed like neither of them had made a move.

After another minute or so of watching Arthur braid Charles' hair, he finished it off by tying the stem of one of them at the end, to keep it together.

Charles was a very capable and intimidating man. But with a braid of flowers running down his back, he looked much more - approachable.

He ran a hand over it, smiling at Arthur who only grumbled something and looked away.

Jack looked positively satisfied, smile still plastered on his face. He hopped off the table, stumbling a bit. He still had a remaining flower in his hand.

"Here, uncle Arthur."

Arthur took the flower and ruffled Jack's brown hair, "Thanks, kid."

Before any of them could really comprehend what was happening, Charles had grabbed the flower from his grip and slid it behind his ear.

John's eyes widened in shock as Arthur's face turned the same shade of red as the flower. He heard Javier let out a surprised breath.

"That's a sight for sore eyes," Sadie muttered. "Maybe we should marry them illegally. I mean, we're already outlaws."

Nodding mutely, John wholeheartedly agreed.


	5. Sean (5)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sure. Maybe keep the confessions 'til later though, hey?" He ended his words with a grin.
> 
> Charles huffed a laugh, not sure if Sean knew that he had already confessed all his feelings to Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, no Pinkerton visit or Jack kidnapping. Why? Because I said so.
> 
> (For real though, I just didn't know how to work it in so I just didn't lmao)

Arthur couldn't contain his sigh once he climbed off his horse, already dreading the conversation he was about to have.

He was already tired from when he, Dutch, and Micah had gone to supposedly - try and even things out with Colm O'driscoll.

It hadn't gone the way they wanted. Though, Arthur was lucky for Charles' lessons on hunting, for he heard the footsteps behind him early enough to knock the O'driscoll out and put a bullet in his head.

He didn't even want to think about what would have happened had he not been quick enough.

On the ledge of the Rhodes bank, Micah, Bill, and Sean were seated. They looked up at him when he approached, Sean even smiling a bit at him.

Even if he was still like an annoying little brother, he seemed to get along with Arthur better now. Even more so since Arthur had promised to show him how to _properly_ quick draw.

Micah was the first to speak, "We've been waiting for you, Arthur."

The trio stood up from the ledge and Arthur couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his words, "Well, I'm sorry to have kept you."

Ignoring him, Micah started walking, "Come on. Let's get goin'."

"What's the plan?" Arthur asked, not having been filled in by Dutch. He only told him to meet up with them in Rhodes, nothing else.

"We're meetin' a couple of the Grays over at the saloon. They spoke to Bill about a job - needing security."

Arthur wasn't sure if he liked the sound of that. "After the farce of stealing the horses for them, why we doin' this?"

"'Cause we need to stay in with them," Micah replied, "and they're payin'."

Of course, that was it. It was always about the money. But Arthur wouldn't lie, he did like money. And they all knew that they couldn't get out of here without it.

"So what kinda security they want?"

"We're about to find out," Micah's lack of explanation was infuriating, "come on."

Arthur narrowed his eyes at him, flicking his gaze over the streets. It felt strangely deserted. Like Shady Belle after he and Lenny cleared it out.

Something at the back of his mind nagged at him that something here was wrong. "This seem legit to you, Bill?" He asked.

"Sure."

Well, that was reassuring. Micah spoke up again before Arthur could question the last man who hadn't said anything yet.

"Dutch said we was to keep on dealin' with them until we find this gold."

At this point, he wasn't sure if he believed there was any gold at the end of this. It just seemed like they were fueling the fire.

"Can we trust them?" Sean asked, speaking for the first time.

Arthur huffed a laugh, "Can we trust anyone?"

As outlaws - trust was a bit of a luxury. They trusted each other in camp, but there was always that tiny bit of doubt lingering in their gut.

"Yeah," Sean agreed.

Micah interrupted, "Let's just see what they say."

Two men walked by and Arthur eyed them warily - not liking the way they stared at them.

"They said there was some big misunderstandin' about them horses," Bill said.

Misunderstanding didn't seem like the right word for it. A dog that Arthur had seen around many times ran by them, uncharacteristically quiet.

Something was very off about this.

"And what about burnin' their fields?" Sean asked.

Micah shook his head, "They don't know we had anythin' to do with that."

Not convinced and still ignoring the dread creeping up his back, Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, that so?"

"Yeah," Bill said, "They think it was the Braithwaites. Listen, I know these Gray boys a bit now. This is on the level."

Shaking his head exasperated, Arthur voiced his doubts, "We're stuck in the middle of some ancient feud. But instead of playin' both sides, we're bein' used by both of 'em."

Bill pursed his lips, "They were sayin' that Catherine Braithwaite -"

Arthur halted his step, seriously not liking the way his mind was screaming at him. "Hey, hold up," he said.

The three others stopped and looked at him, Micah looking annoyed. Arthur saw the way Sean's eyes were flicking from side to side - examining the empty street.

"This don't feel right," he muttered.

Sean reluctantly nods, "Right. Though, I could'a told ya that."

The dog from earlier sat down by the building next to them, huffing impatiently. Arthur locked eyes with it and it immediately barked at him.

"Come on, cowpoke, you're just being paranoid."

A quiet sound was heard but Arthur could hear it - as if it was right next to his ear.

The cocking of a gun.

Sean took a step backwards, "Maybe the rest of-"

Before he could think about it, Arthur hurried to reach out a hand. He snatched the fabric of his shirt, yanking him back just in time for Arthur to hear the shot go flying through the air.

And then he was hit with a rush of hotness - dizzying and painful. He could barely choke out a word as he saw the ground get closer and closer.

Faintly, he heard Sean's distinct accent yell something and then there were hands on him. His vision swam as he was pulled away - somewhere.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him abruptly, leaving him no choice but to let his eyes drift shut.

Maybe he just imagined it, but Arthur could swear he saw Sean's worried face - drained of colour - looking down at him, right before the darkness in his peripheral view took over the rest of his sight.

Then he opened his eyes and saw a roof above his head. The old wood was cracking at the edges, paint faded long since.

He blinked the fog from his eyes, feeling pain ripple throughout his body as he tried to move his head. All sounds around him felt like dynamite being set off right next to him.

He placed a hand on his chest, trying to breathe properly. Faintly he could hear something moving, but he only called out for the first person he could think of. Though it was more of a wheeze than a call.

"Charles.."

* * *

Charles had watched Arthur ride out of camp a while ago - something about a job with Sean and some others in Rhodes.

Arthur said he didn't get a lot of details from Dutch, so he'd see what was up and be back before dark. Charles had patted him on the shoulder and told him to be careful.

They weren't always together when they did jobs, but they both certainly preferred it when they were.

"You care about 'im a lot, right?"

He halted his hand with the hammer, looking at John. He was still working on banging the wheel onto the wagon securely, but his lips were pursed in a way that let Charles know he was listening intently.

"Who?" He asked, even though he knew exactly who he meant.

John apparently did too, as he scoffed, "Come on, Smith. You know."

"Yeah," he turned back to the hammering, "Guess I do. You do as well, though."

"He's my brother, 'course I do." He shook his head, noticing that Charles changed the subject. "You - uh, you an' Arthur are pretty close."

Charles hummed, feeling amusement bubble up in his throat. He knew what was happening.

It's not like they actively _tried_ to hide it - other than not being physically affectionate around the others. He expected someone to notice sooner or later.

This was just the first time anyone had brought it up.

"You ain't been with us a long time, but you seem like good friends," John continued casually.

Charles licked his lips, feeling a smirk trying to break through. _Friends_. "Sure."

"You - you ever think about settlin' down? Gettin' kids, married."

Not suppressing the smirk anymore, Charles straightened up after he finished hammering. "No, don't really want children."

John also straightened up, eyeing him - not so subtly as he leaned against the wagon. "Don't wanna get married neither?"

He thought about Arthur and his smile when Charles had asked what he wanted to do when they got out of here - headed west - a few weeks ago.

_"I - I guess I just wanna settle down. I don't know, get a dog. Used to have one, y'know."_

_"Right, Copper. Saw your picture of him. I'm sure we can find a dog somewhere."_

_He smiled softly, eyes bright in the reflection of the sun. "You fine with a dog?"_

_"Yeah, I like 'em. Besides, they make you all excited."_

_He laughed quietly, "You watchin' me that closely, Charles?"_

_"Always."_

_His smile dimmed and he swallowed, feeling his cheeks heat up. "You want anythin', then? When we," he gestured with a hand, "settle down. Stop bein' outlaws."_

_Charles nodded, "Yeah."_

_It was quiet for a moment before Arthur turned his head to look at him._

_"Well?"_

_He chuckled at Arthur's eyebrow raise, "I want to get married, I suppose."_

_Arthur's eyebrow didn't lower back down. He just looked - confused._

_"To you," he clarified._

_His blue eyes widened. "Oh." It was almost endearing (who was he kidding, it was absolutely endearing) the way his face turned red in a matter of seconds._

_He looked away even when Charles smiled at him. "You - We can't do that."_

_Charles shrugged loosely, "What's one more crime?"_

_Arthur laughed, smile lighting up his face in a way that Charles thought was the most beautiful thing in the world._

_"Sure. Let's do it."_

Charles crossed his arms and looked out at the lake next to their camp. "I do. Though, that's only if we get out of here. Seems like we keep heading the opposite way."

John smiled lopsidedly, "Guess so."

"Dutch! Dutch! Somebody, help us!"

They both pushed themselves off the wagon in alarm when they heard Sean's distressed voice. They hurried over along with everyone else in camp.

"What's going on?" Hosea asked them, Dutch coming out of his tent a second later.

Sean's hands were covered in blood, still slick. His cheeks were stained as well, and Charles couldn't tell if it was his or someone else's.

Behind them came Bill and Micah, quick to hop of their horses. After them came Arthur's horse - saddle empty.

Charles felt his throat tighten. Where was Arthur?

Sean stumbled over to Bill's horse, helping him lift someone off the back. Hosea followed quickly and his eyes widened.

"What the hell happened?" John questioned Micah who went straight up to Dutch.

Charles wasn't quite listening as he went up to Sean and Hosea, but he caught the words _ambush_ and _Arthur._

He felt his stomach twist with a feeling that was unfamiliar - fear. Hosea called out for Grimshaw and Swanson, then he moved to the side to let Sean and Bill through.

As soon as Charles saw who they were carrying - each of them with one arm around their shoulder - he felt his heart stutter.

Arthur, face pale and his white shirt - which Charles only knew was white, because he'd seen him in it earlier that day - was drenched in blood, flowing freely from a hole in his abdomen.

Charles looked on along with everybody else, hearing the girls gasping and Lenny exclaiming in worry, as they hauled Arthur over to his wagon.

They put him on the bed and before Charles knew it, he was seated on the log around the campfire along with everybody else - who wasn't tending to Arthur.

He knew he couldn't do anything about a wound like that, but he felt like he was betraying Arthur by not being there.

"What's wrong with uncle Arthur?" Came Jack's small voice.

John ruffled his hair, "He's fine. Just - sick." He looked like he wanted to believe that himself.

"Okay.."

Once Jack had walked off again, Abigail taking him over to the water instead, Javier spoke up.

"What happened in Rhodes?"

His question was directed at Sean, who was still looking shaken up.

"We - we was walkin' up to the saloon an' the Grays ambushed us. They was gonna shoot me I think, but," he wetted his lips, "Arthur saved me. Shot him instead."

Charles almost smiled at that. Arthur was really a different man now - putting everyone else ahead of himself. He was proud of him, even if he didn't want him to put himself into danger like that.

Sean laughed quietly but it lacked his usual joy, "Seems our cover is up with them an' the Braithwaites."

"We gotta move again, don't we?" Tilly asked. That realisation seemed to wash over everyone, leaving them in silence other than the crackle of the fire

Dutch had been strangely silent before that but spoke up, voice determined as always. "He'll be fine. _We'll_ be fine. We just need more time - more _money_ , and we'll be well on our way!"

Lenny's knee that had been bouncing non-stop now settled. "I - I know a place. Arthur and I, we cleared it out a while ago, in the swamps near Saint Denis."

Dutch nodded and looked at John, who straightened up, "You and Lenny head out, make sure no one else has moved in. Rest of you, get packin'!"

* * *

It'd been four days since they got to Shady Bell and Arthur still hadn't woken up. Sean wasn't sure if he would.

Grimshaw said he would - eventually, but even she sounded hesitant. If he didn't wake up, Sean was sure it was gonna be his fault.

After all, if Arthur hadn't pulled him out of the way, he wouldn't have gotten shot. Sure, he probably would be dead if Arthur hadn't saved him, but maybe that would be better than if Arthur died.

Getting shot in the stomach wasn't something Sean had seen many people survive. Usually, he was the one shooting people.

But seeing Arthur crumple to the ground after pulling him out of the way of a bullet, was something he would never forget.

The way he choked on his breath as his shirt was painted red. It was terrifying.

When they arrived at Shady Bell, they'd put Arthur into a room on the second floor of the house - though how they managed to get him up there escaped him. Grimshaw and Reverend, along with Hosea sometimes, checked on him daily and changed his bandages.

Sean asked Hosea if he'd woken up yet almost every morning. He'd always smile at him and pat his shoulder.

 _"Not yet,"_ he'd say. Every day.

Charles had been unusually stubborn lately, he'd noticed as well. He'd stay by Arthur's door every night, not going to bed even when John asked him to.

Sean had been on the receiving end of Charles' glare for the first time a few days ago, because he said that Arthur wouldn't wake up any quicker by him standing there.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't felt a bit - just a tiny very small bit, scared.

Everybody could tell that Charles was intimidating, but seeing those eyes sharpen dangerously at you - it reminded you that Charles was a force to be reckoned with.

The way he didn't back down from certain people's gaze, the way he wasn't afraid to question them either. It was different from many people Sean knew.

The only way they got Charles to rest, was by telling him that Arthur would want him to. Sean eyed him knowingly whenever he caught Charles gazing up at his window from outside.

He - along with everybody else in camp - had noticed how close the two were. Always around each other and whenever they weren't, they looked like they wanted to be.

Sean wasn't sure how they got so close. When Charles joined them it was like they - clicked.

At first they didn't really talk, but after Dutch had sent them on their first job together, they seemed like they'd been friends for months already.

It was kind of strange. But hey, they all were, so who was Sean to judge.

Currently, Sean was walking up to Arthur's room. Grimshaw had checked on him a few minutes ago, so the coast was clear for Sean.

It wasn't like he wasn't allowed to visit. It was more that he felt guilty. Though, the others had told him it wasn't his fault.

He tried to believe them.

He walked up to the door and opened it carefully. Like every other time he went into the room, he was expecting to see Arthur asleep.

He wasn't expecting to see him blinking at the ceiling, a hand on his chest as he breathed shallowly but roughly. Sean felt like his eyes were gonna pop out from his head, given how much they widened.

What was he supposed to do? Get Hosea? Grimshaw? Arthur was awake - he was actually _awake._ He wasn't dead.

He glanced between Arthur and down the hall, thinking of what to do when he heard the man speak - or, whisper.

"Charles.."

Sean snapped out of his daze - right, Charles! He had to get Charles. Maybe Hosea or Grimshaw would be better to actually check on his wounds, but Sean felt that getting Charles would be the best thing.

He hurried out of the room, almost tripping down the stairs. The people on the first floor flinched in surprise when he ran out of the door.

"What's wrong with him?" Karen asked, eyebrows raised.

Tilly shrugged, "Don't know. He was just goin' to check on Arthur, wasn't he?"

They went back to their work, but Kieran realised something as the silence returned. He cautiously spoke, still not completely comfortable around the gang.

"Do - do you think Arthur woke up?"

Every head in the room swivelled in his direction and he regretted his words almost immediately. Sadie waved a hand in the air.

"If he was awake, I think Sean would've told us."

A yell from outside was heard - Sean's voice loud even from outside the walls.

"Charles! Charles Smith - get over here!"

Mary-Beth stifled a giggle, "Can't believe he has the guts to talk to him like that."

Not a second later, the door near the stairs burst open again. Charles was being pushed by Sean - which was a sight to see - up the steps.

He seemed more amused than irritated which was a relief. Sean may be a strange one, but they didn't want another injured person in camp.

They watched as the two men disappeared upstairs, confused. They tried to go back to their previous activities, but found their attention drifting.

* * *

"Charles! Charles Smith - get over here!"

He looked up from where he was fixing Taima's horseshoes and raised an eyebrow at Sean, who ran up to him, looking excited and concerned.

"What?" He asked.

Sean shook his head, "You'll see, come on!" He put his hands on Charles' shoulders and turned him around, steering him toward the house.

Charles knew he could brush him off, but Sean and he had never really spoken to each other - so he let himself be pushed in through the door and up the stairs, slightly curious.

He noticed a few other gang members staring at them from the main room downstairs, but paid them no mind.

When they got to the top of the stairs, Sean stopped and removed his hands. Charles looked at him questioningly.

"Well? You don't want to keep English waitin', do ya?"

Charles felt the world come to a stop around him. His eyes flickered over to the door. "He's -?" He trailed off into a silent question that he already knew the answer to.

Sean nodded, crossing his arms. "Yup. Seemed to be out of it though, called for you first thing. Thought I'd tell ya."

Rolling his lips, Charles nodded at the words. His heart ached at the knowledge that Arthur thought of him even after he got _shot_.

"Go get Hosea or Grimshaw," he said quietly, though Sean seemed to hear him.

He shrugged, moving to walk down the stairs again, "Sure. Maybe keep the confessions 'til later though, hey?" He ended his words with a grin.

Charles huffed a laugh, not sure if Sean knew that he had already confessed all his feelings to Arthur. The latter went downstairs again, leaving Charles alone in the hallway.

He took a deep breath before moving over to the door. Despite wanting to just walk inside, he rapped his knuckles on the door first.

When he heard unintelligible sounds from inside, he carefully opened the door. Relief washed over him when he saw Arthur sitting up in bed, leaning against the wall.

He was still pale and his face was pinched with pain, but once he saw Charles enter the room, he smiled at him.

"Hey," Charles said quietly, shutting the door behind him. Hosea and Grimshaw would most likely get here soon, so he'd try to be quick with this conversation.

"Hey, Charles. What happened?"

Charles walked up to him, carefully sliding a hand over his cheek. Arthur leaned into the warmth, eyes closing. "You got shot. Saved Sean's life."

He laughed but it turned into a groan, "Guess that's why I feel like shit." He glanced around the room, "Where are we?"

Charles hummed, moving to sit down next to him on the bed. Arthur grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together almost like it was second nature.

"We had to move. It's the house you and Lenny cleared a few weeks back," he searched for the name, "Shady Bell."

Arthur nodded to himself, "How long's it been?" Despite the ache in his bones, he wanted to get back to working as soon as possible.

The knowing look Charles shot him meant he knew exactly what Arthur was thinking. He raised his eyebrows innocently, "Just wonderin'."

Charles sighed. "Right," he sounded sarcastic. "It's been four days. Some of us were starting to think you weren't -" he cut himself off.

Arthur stared silently at the floor while rubbing his thumb over Charles' hand. "Well, I'm fine. Shouldn't worry 'bout me."

Maybe it was that Charles had seen him when they got back to camp. Maybe it was that he hadn't been there to protect him - or at least there with him when it happened.

But Charles felt his eyes sting. It was an unfamiliar feeling. He didn't cry - hadn't for a long time. Last time was over his mother, if he recalled correctly.

He remembered the fear that gripped his heart when he saw Arthur get dragged into camp - barely breathing and looking like he was already dead.

Charles knew he loved Arthur and the thought that he could have lost him - it was frightening. So if he was gonna cry over anyone, it was fitting that it was Arthur.

"You almost _died,_ Arthur. How can we not worry?"

Arthur looked at him at the sound of his strained voice, feeling his eyes soften when he saw Charles' furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, Charles. I really am fine, though," he reassured him.

Charles sighed, "If you weren't, I don't know what I'd do." He brought Arthur's hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the skin, "And don't apologise."

"Sorry -"

A pointed stare left Arthur pursing his lips. Right, no apologies. Charles stayed quiet for a second before he let out a quiet chuckle.

Arthur nudged him with his elbow - ignoring the pain that flared up, "Fine."

"Good. You saved Sean, you should be proud of yourself."

He hummed, "He'd been fine even without me. I ain't do nothin' special."

Charles shook his head, exasperated. "Only you would believe that, Arthur. Sean's been checking on you every day, you know." He smiled a bit, "He's real grateful."

"Well," Arthur shifted cautiously, "annoyin' as he is, at least he's alive."

"Alive and very much annoying," Charles confirmed with a smile. "He keeps telling me to man up and confess to you, or he'd tell you himself."

Shaking his head, Arthur laughed, "'Course he does. He once said to me that if I didn't stop looking at you like I do, he'd hit me."

Charles snickered, "He's funny, I'll give him that. Smart?" He hesitated, "Not very."

The sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted whatever answer Arthur could have given, making Charles sigh.

"I have to go," he stood up, not releasing Arthur's hand, "rest easy, now. Don't make me have to tie you to the bed, alright?" He raised an eyebrow at the latter, knowing fully well he would try to get back to work even in his state.

Arthur smiled, "Don't think I'd mind that, Mister Smith. But sure," he nodded, "I won't do nothin'."

"Okay," Charles slowly let go of Arthur's hand and turned to the door, but then turned back around. He bent down and pressed a kiss against Arthur's lips, murmuring against them. "I love you."

Arthur suppressed a smile, "Love you too." There was a knock at the door, and Charles stepped away again.

"I'll come back later."

He nodded at him in response, before Charles opened the door and greeted the people in the doorway.

"Don't let him out of bed. He wants to return to work already," he heard Charles say.

Wanting to call out and deny the accusation, but not having the energy, Arthur sagged against the wall instead.

Charles stepped out of the room with a last glance at him, and in after him came Hosea and Sean.

"Glad to see you awake, son."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a longer chapter, I believe. Hope you still liked it :]


	6. Everybody (+1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch placed a hand on his shoulder before turning to Micah, "I truly wish you two would get along better. I need time to think now, if you two are done."
> 
> Micah smiled - looking more like a reptile than the alligators around the swamp. "Of course, Dutch. Me an' Arthur are gonna be best pals one day, you'll see."
> 
> Barely refraining from scoffing, Arthur quickly turned away and walked out of the room - the sound of Micah's chuckling following him down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violence, Blood, Homophobia, Homophobic and Degrading Language.
> 
> Micah's an asshole and that makes him perfect material for these types of scenes.

"Mister Milton, this is America - You can _always_ cut a deal!" Dutch shouted out of the window.

Arthur felt his heart pound - like it was gonna jump out of his chest at any moment. He glanced into the room, watching everyone shift nervously.

If Kieran was here he would be the most nervous, Arthur thought. He was grateful that the kid wasn't here, that he had gone with Abigail and Hosea instead.

He just hoped he had escaped with Abigail. The kid had grown on him, and after he heard a group of O'driscolls talking about killing him, he had been anxious about something happening to him - even after he told him to not wander off by himself.

He'd agreed surprisingly easy, even if they weren't the closest. He'd seemed happy that someone was looking out for him, if anything.

Though, Arthur supposed that when he was riding with the O'driscolls they didn't give two shits about him. They'd probably put a bullet in his forehead at the slightest inconvenience and call it mercy.

As if they knew the meaning of that word.

Milton's voice brought Arthur out of his thoughts, "I've given you enough chances!" He pushed Hosea forward, who stumbled into the street.

He moved slowly toward the bank, casting nervous glances around him. Arthur wasn't sure what it was, but he felt his arm move before he acknowledged it.

Elbow smashing the window in front of him, he pointed a gun toward Milton and pulled the trigger. He ignored Dutch's irritated - if not slightly relieved - expression as he jumped out.

Milton crumpled to the ground and his men started shooting - at the building and at Arthur and Hosea.

Arthur did his best not to get hit as he snatched Hosea's arm and pulled him with him - practically throwing him inside.

Once they were on the floor in the bank, Hosea stared at him like he'd grown a second head. Arthur shot at one of the Pinkerton's outside before ducking back down.

He met Hosea's gaze and yelled over the gunfire, "What!?"

Hosea's eyebrows furrowed, "You absolute fool! You could have been killed!"

"And _you_ would've been! See why I didn't wanna do this from the start, now!? It's just another goddamn shootout!"

"How heartwarming - how about you focus on killing these Pinkertons for now?" Micah interrupted sarcastically.

Before Arthur could say anything, Dutch suddenly yelled out, moving toward the middle of the room, "Arthur, get over here!"

With a last stern glance at Hosea, Arthur moved toward him, crouching down behind the half-moon shaped desk.

"There's no way that we're getting out of that door. Take this -" he placed some dynamite on the ground "- and blow a hole through that wall," Dutch said.

"Okay."

* * *

Arthur swore he could feel his heart stop when Lenny ran forward, only to stop when two Pinkertons burst through the door.

His hands automatically moved for his pistol, but he knew he wasn't gonna make it. The sound of a gun going off seemed louder than all the other gunshots.

When Lenny didn't fall to the ground - the Pinkertons falling instead, he almost sighed in relief.

Sean laughed loudly from next to him, cheerful as always. "Too close, eh, Lenny?" He winked at Arthur when he glanced at him.

Teaching him to quickdraw really did pay off.

Lenny huffed a nervous laugh, "Sure was. Hurry, let's get outta here before more show up."

Arthur moved to the side and hurried the others along, making sure no one was left behind. Dutch patted his shoulder as he moved by.

"Good going, son."

He nodded at him, happy to see that everyone made it alright. John and Hosea came next, the latter smiling gratefully at him.

Arthur tried to return it but he knew it fell flat. He was feeling too tense right now - two of them had almost died just now, relaxing wasn't an option right now.

Charles was last in coming up, but instead of moving ahead like everybody else did, he grabbed Arthur's wrist and pulled him along.

"You're too kind, sometimes," he muttered, grip on his wrist gentle but firm at the same time.

Disagreeing, Arthur was about to voice his thoughts, but he stopped when Charles gave him a look that meant _you know I'm right_.

That look was one Arthur felt he was at the receiving end of way too often.

When they reached the end of the building, the others jumped over to the other. Hosea had to be half-caught by John when he got over so he wouldn't get hurt, but other than that everyone made it over as safely as they could.

"What now?" Lenny asked when they had moved to yet another roof, crouching low to hide from the Pinkertons and police.

Everyone's eyes moved to Dutch, but before he could speak, Hosea did.

"We can hide out in an empty apartment, god knows we'll be too exposed out here," he said. And as if on cue, they heard the law's whistle ring out and a bunch of men yelling.

Dutch nodded along, "Agreed. We'll move in small groups and then hold out until nightfall, might make it easier to get out of here. Arthur," he beckoned him with his hand, "follow me."

* * *

"That was a damn disaster. Told you it was gonna be set-up, Dutch!" Arthur yelled, letting out his anger and worry now that they were back in the safety (if they were ever safe anywhere) of Shady Belle.

They had already started packing up so they could move somewhere else, but no one was sure where they would go.

Micah who was right by Dutch's side, as always, leered at him. "We're all fine, ain't we, Cowpoke? It all worked out! We even got the money, what you so angry for?"

Scowling, Arthur took a step forward, "Hosea and Lenny almost died! You call that _working out?_ None of this would've happened if you listened to me, Dutch!" He turned and directed the last sentence at the man addressed.

Dutch sighed from where he was sitting. "Let's calm down, Arthur. Micah's right, it _did_ work out. And now - now we have money. We can leave," he smiled, "be _free!"_

Anger dissipating, Arthur frowned at his mentor. "You can't tell me you don't see that was just pure luck. Hosea was real close to getting shot, Lenny too. If Sean hadn't been there, he would've been, too."

Dutch stayed quiet for a tense moment. Then, he nodded reluctantly.

"You're right - and I'm sorry, son. If we'd known it was a set-up, we wouldn't have done it. But I need you to _trust me_ , Arthur. It's all going to be fine, alright?"

Arthur held his dark gaze before he looked away. The intensity was still too much for him after all these years.

"Alright."

Dutch placed a hand on his shoulder before turning to Micah, "I truly wish you two would get along better. I need time to think now, if you two are done."

Micah smiled - looking more like a reptile than the alligators around the swamp. "Of course, Dutch. Me an' Arthur are gonna be best pals one day, you'll see."

Barely refraining from scoffing, Arthur quickly turned away and walked out of the room - the sound of Micah's chuckling following him down the hall.

* * *

Abigail and everyone else had returned to camp fine, but Arthur still felt anxiety sizzling under his skin. They needed to move, but Dutch and Hosea were still talking about where.

They had money now. They actually had enough money, after all this time. Arthur almost couldn't believe it.

Charles had gone off to help Grimshaw and the others pack up, but Arthur had found himself sitting by the campfire - staring into the flames.

He thought of something Hosea had said - what felt like ages ago now.

_"My Pa used to say if you stare into the fire long enough, you can see the whole world pass by."_

He supposed he was right. Watching the flames dance around each other - creating a flurry of colours, was almost hypnotising.

"You alright there, Cowpoke?"

The sky had darkened a while ago, but Arthur could still clearly see the grin on his face. He sure liked to rile people up even after a shitshow like that bank robbery.

Though, they did get the money and no one died. So he supposed it could have gone worse.

He sighed, "What do you want, Micah?"

Holding his hands up defensively, he snickered, "Oh, nothin'! Just, you've been actin' real worried 'bout these jobs lately. Almost like you ain't got faith in Dutch no more."

Arthur turned his head to look at him more clearly, feeling irritation bubble up in him. The glare Lenny shot Micah from the other side of the fire was comforting.

Knowing the others didn't like Micah either was something that kept him from going crazy.

Karen and Javier also sat by the fire - the latter on a blanket and Karen next to Lenny on one of the boxes. They stayed quiet as Micah spoke.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Micah didn't hesitate, "Oh, y'know, how you seem to be able to tell when a job's gonna go bad. It's real suspicious, ain't it?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes, voice low, "What'chu sayin', Micah?"

"You accusin' Morgan of bein' a rat?" Sean asked when he came up to them, having heard what Micah was saying. "He's been here longer than all of us."

Snickering, Micah backed up a step when Sean came a bit too close for his liking. "As I said, it's nothin'. Just, strange is all. You've changed, Morgan. Even when it works out fine, you're all-" he gestured at Arthur "- soft, now."

Arthur had heard those words before. He ignored it most of the time - it didn't really bother him. He knew that being soft wasn't a bad thing.

He would still kill people who needed killing. Wasn't like he was suddenly a saint.

"I ain't in the mood, Mister Bell."

"Oh," he laughed, "Of course you ain't. I know _just_ what you're in the mood for. You wanna go see your boyfriend, don't you?"

Everyone around them seemed to tense, casting wary glances between the two.

Arthur clenched his jaw, "What?"

"Don't play dumb, Morgan. Mister Smith, right? Ever since you two got so _chummy_ with each other, you've been real soft, ain't you?" He sneered.

Karen glared at him, "I think we've all had enough'a you, Mister Bell. Get out of here."

"Yeah, you better leave, _amigo,_ " Javier drawled sarcastically.

Micah chuckled, "Ooh, y'all are real scary, ain'tcha?" He turned to Arthur again, "Where is he, by the way? You seem to be glued together most of the time."

Arthur felt anxiety crawl up his throat, along with anger. He knew this was gonna happen eventually. But, even with the fear in the back of his mind, he didn't regret a single thing.

Didn't regret staring at Charles from across camp - from kissing him even if he risked getting caught. Didn't regret strangling that poacher who insulted Charles for his race and ethnicity.

And, most of all, he certainly didn't regret loving Charles Smith. It was the best goddamn thing he ever did in his life.

"Why don't you go find 'im yourself? See if you can keep him from breakin' your nose with all this - talk," he suggested.

Micah raised his eyebrows, "Why don't you break my nose yourself, Cowpoke? Too scared? Too _soft?"_

The other members of the gang had started to stare at them, with the exception of Dutch and Hosea who were inside.

Some of them looked confused while some were looking annoyed. Most of them had expressed their distaste for Micah.

Even Bill, who agreed with Micah sometimes, looked like he'd eaten something sour.

"Shut up, Micah, or I just might," Arthur stood up, glaring at him.

Looking amused as always, Micah took a step forward, "Ohoho, big guy's actin' all tough now. You think Dutch is gonna be disappointed in you? Hitting a fellow gang member." He frowned dramatically, "An' here I thought words couldn't rile you up."

Arthur stared at him, ignoring the burning of everyone's gazes on them. He spit on the ground next to Micah, "You ain't worth it, _Milksop_."

He'd only heard the word once, when he first met those strange twins in Valentine. But he felt the word was fitting.

Micah smirked, still laughing under his breath, "How unexpected. You ain't got it in you no more, do you? You're just a queer now."

Arthur tried not to react to the word that had been yelled at him many times - he tried to act as if it didn't make fear sizzle in his chest.

"Let me ask you one thing, Arthur."

* * *

Sadie had heard Micah's obnoxious voice from the campfire and initially ignored it. He was always talking shit.

But when she heard who he was talking to and _what_ he was saying, she felt her jaw clench so hard she thought she was gonna chip her teeth.

She got up from the chair on the porch, walking toward them quickly. Most of the other members were also watching their argument.

Abigail was frowning at them, looking like she wanted to interrupt them but not quite sure what to do. John stood next to her, a scowl on his face.

The only thing holding him back was the hand Abigail had on his elbow.

"If he doesn't stop talkin' soon I'm gonna hit 'im," Sadie muttered as she took place next to them. She heard Karen and Javier tell Micah to back off and felt guilty for only watching on.

John huffed, "Trust me, I want to put him in the ground. But we all know Arthur can handle himself. He ain't gonna appreciate gettin' saved."

Arthur spit on the ground next to Micah, "You ain't worth it, _Milksop._ "

She almost laughed if it wasn't for the anger on his face. She'd seen him angry before, but this - it felt different.

Like another emotion was threatening to break out. Something more - fragile.

Micah laughed quietly, "How unexpected. You ain't got it in you no more, do you? You're just a queer now." He leaned in closer, "Let me ask you one thing, Arthur."

Sadie saw something moving out of the corner of her eye and glanced over to see Charles moving quickly toward them.

Or - toward Micah.

His dark eyes had genuine anger in them, narrowed like she'd never seen before. He stalked toward Micah with his hands clenched.

Micah remained oblivious as he continued speaking to Arthur.

"Were you always this weak? Or did Charles fuck the toughness out of you?"

He didn't get the chance to say anything else as a hand gripped his jacket and pulled him back. Before he could even react, he had a fist thrown in his face.

The others gasped in surprise, though a few of them could barely suppress their grins. Arthur's glare was wiped off his face in an instant, instead staring shocked at Charles.

Micah fell to the ground by the force of Charles' hit, and he clutched his chin with a hand, spitting out some blood.

"Such nice timing, Smith. Heard your boyfriend was in trouble, did ya?" He grinned wolfishly, seemingly not having had enough. "Tell me, do you two actually like each other, or is Cowpoke here just _real_ good with his mouth?"

Charles kept his face neutral - anger already hidden - and leaned down to grab a handful of Micah's shirt. His voice was low as he spoke, but loud enough for the others to hear.

"You talk about him like that again and I'll make sure you never speak another word," he threatened.

Micah didn't stop smiling, "Think Morgan spreads his legs for other men? Lets them touch him all they want? Like Abigail used to, maybe. Or do you own him, huh? Is he reserved for you?"

"You choose your next words carefully, Mister Bell," Charles said.

Micah held up his hands defensively again, only thing keeping him from falling to the ground being Charles' grip on his shirt.

"I'm just askin' if he'd, well -" he glanced at Arthur who was still looking conflicted next to them, "- spread them for me too? Maybe Dutch as well, or Javier? I bet he doesn't care, as long as it's a man, right?" He laughed.

Charles threw another punch, enjoying the crack of Micah's nose he could feel beneath his hand.

"Want to keep talking? Or do you want to walk out of here on working legs?"

Micah chuckled, seemingly not caring about the blood running flowing down his face. "That all you got, big guy?"

Raising his eyebrows, Charles' eyes glinted dangerously. The next punch felt harder than the previous two, and Micah felt his vision blur.

"Charles -" Arthur said, not sure what to do. He'd never seen him this wild, this _angry._ He didn't act like this even when he shot that poacher.

Arthur knew he could handle himself. He knew he could beat Micah into the ground if he wanted to - and _god_ he did. Those insults weren't anything Arthur didn't expect, but they still affected him.

"That's right, tell your pet to stop," Micah wheezed out when Charles threw another fist into his face, leaving his skin throbbing with pain.

Charles flexed his fist to relax it, the punch being harder than he thought. Controlling himself always came easily to him. But right now he felt like he wouldn't be able to stop even if he wanted to.

And he didn't.

So he threw another punch, not caring about the slightly horrified look he caught Mary-Beth giving him. Not caring about the red blooming on Micah's face as he hit him again and again and _again and again._

Micah kept chuckling even as his face swelled up, "In the _real_ world you'd get killed for bein' a queer, Smith. Sure you wanna risk your life for Arthur here?"

Charles paused with his fist in the air, eyebrows furrowed. He'd thought about that before and already knew what he thought about it.

"At least I'll have the chance to die for someone I love," he wouldn't have it any other way, "You have no one. You'll die like the scum you are, Micah."

Wetting his bloody and split lips, Micah coughed out another laugh - seemingly still finding amusement in the situation.

Arthur stared at them with wide eyes. Glancing around at the others - who either avoided his gaze or met it with shocked eyes - he realised something.

Oh.

Guess their secret was up.

* * *

"So we'll pack up and leave tomorrow, then?"

Dutch nodded, smiling happily. They were finally gonna be free. All these years they'd spent working toward this - finally paid off.

The people they lost - it wasn't in vain. Jennie, Mac, Davey, all the people they'd killed and seen die. It was worth it.

"Just another few days and we're done, old friend. _Free._ We've made it," he placed his hand on Hosea's shoulder.

Hosea allowed himself to smile back, relieved that all this would stop soon.

"We're not quite out of it yet, though. And old habits die hard, so we'll have to adjust to the," he waved a hand in the air, " _civil_ life."

"I'm sure we'll -"

"Dutch, Hosea, I believe we need your help out here," Susan said as she entered the room - without knocking, frowning a bit.

They both tensed instantly. Hosea stood up from the chair he was seated in. "Pinkertons?" He asked worriedly.

She shook her head, "It's Micah and - well, it's best if you come see for yourself."

With confused glances at each other, Dutch and Hosea followed Susan out of the room, walking downstairs.

"What happened to Micah, Miss Grimshaw?" Dutch asked as she opened the door and led them outside.

"I think Charles really might kill him. God knows I wouldn't miss him but I thought you should know," she pursed her lips and gestured toward the campfire. 

Charles was practically on top of Micah - hitting him repeatedly. The rest of the camp was watching, some looking amused and others not so much.

Dutch furrowed his eyebrows at the display. Micah seemed to just be taking it and Arthur who stood right next to them did nothing to stop Charles.

"What the _hell_ is going on here!?" He asked loudly, walking up to them with heavy steps.

Everyone seemed to tense at his voice, promptly avoiding his questioning gaze. Arthur met his gaze, looking conflicted, but said nothing.

Charles didn't spare him as much as a glance as he threw Micah roughly to the ground, his head thumping against it.

He stood up - blood dripping off of his knuckles like water off a leaf - and held Dutch's eyes, waiting, _daring_ him to say anything.

Micah coughed weakly from where he laid, right eye swollen shut and face almost unrecognisable. If Dutch hadn't seen so much death and as many bodies as he had, he'd be horrified at what Charles did to him.

"Care to _explain_ yourself, Mister Smith? We don't attack fellow gang members, I believe I've told you," he said, eyes narrowed.

"I know," Charles said.

Then he walked off, turning his back to them and walking over to Taima, saddling up and riding away without as much as another word.

Dutch looked over the rest of them in the moonlight, eyebrows raised. No one answered him.

"I - I'll be back soon," Arthur said hazily, hurrying over to his own horse.

Minutes ago, he'd been the happiest he'd been in a long time, because of the knowledge that they were all going to be free.

Now, he had just watched two of his best men ride out of camp while one of them laid wheezing on the ground.

He snapped out of his daze, moving to get the count to go after them. He stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Hosea shook his head at him, "Leave them. I think - I think Micah deserved that. They'll be back later, okay?"

Dutch blinked at him.

"Micah deserved that? What could he possibly have done to deserve almost gettin' killed?" He asked, voice rising as he accused everyone still lingering around.

They seemed to realise it, as they all moved to go to bed or do things that didn't include staring at Micah or Dutch.

"It seems you'll have to ask him yourself. Don't be too harsh on Charles when they get back. We're almost out of here, Dutch. We can't lose anyone right now - not when we're so close."

Dutch's eyes softened as he looked at his old, old, friend. They'd known each other for so long and Dutch was still so utterly weak to his soft-spoken and rational words.

"Fine. Just - they better have a damn good explanation for this," he said quietly. "Get some sleep, Hosea."

* * *

"Charles, hey - wait up!"

He pulled on Taima's reins for her to slow down. Arthur came up quickly behind him, hat askew on his head from the wind.

"Why you runnin' off? And why'd you -" he trailed off, presumably at a loss for words.

Charles raised an eyebrow at him, feeling his hand throb as the adrenaline left him. He almost couldn't believe he got so worked up.

But when he heard Micah saying those things to Arthur. He'd felt his ears ring - the only thing on his mind to get Micah to _shut up_.

"You really think I was gonna let him say those things?" He asked incredulously.

Arthur tilted his head slightly to the side, looking so confused that Charles almost thought it was adorable. "Well, I mean - it ain't nothin' I haven't heard before."

Charles stiffened as he processed the words. "What?"

He scratched his neck nonchalantly, "Yeah, I've heard those things when I was younger and less - discreet about my preference, I guess."

"Why have you never told me this?"

Arthur looked up at him, about to laugh it off and tell him that it's _really no big deal_ , but he felt the words die in his throat at the look on Charles' face.

His eyebrows that were previously furrowed in anger were now turned upwards and he looked so lost and - sad that Arthur didn't know what to say.

"You - I - I'm sorry?"

Charles stared at him, baffled, "You're _apologising?"_

It was quiet for a moment, Arthur racking his head to find anything other to say other than _sorry_. Charles broke the silence with a laugh.

"You're the only one who would apologise for getting insulted, Arthur Morgan."

Feeling a smile tug on his own lips from the beautiful sight of Charles laughing, Arthur shrugged. "It was long ago, and Micah's always sayin' shit like that. I could've handled 'im myself, you know."

Charles shook his head and sighed fondly, "I know. But you shouldn't have to."

"And you shouldn't have to either. You're gonna get into trouble with Dutch when we get back. Even if Micah deserved it."

He could already see Dutch making excuses for him. He'd always liked Micah and stood up for him. It made no sense to Arthur nor anybody else in camp.

In a group of outlaws - of murderers and thieves, Micah stood out. But Dutch seemed oblivious to it.

"You would've done the same if he was talking about me."

"Of course, but -" he ignored Charles' grin, "- alright, fine. I get it."

Charles fixed Arthur's hat, gentlemanly as always, before he gripped Taima's reins again. "Since we'll be lectured when we get back, we might as well take our time out here."

Laughing quietly, Arthur gestured forward, "Lead the way, love."

* * *

"So, did we all hear the same thing?" Sadie asked, half an hour after the fight went down.

John nodded, still staring blankly at his hands. He couldn't believe that Arthur and Charles _were_ actually together.

He thought they were still at the friends stage.

Javier chuckled as he strummed on his guitar, "I think we all heard it. Mary-Beth ran off squealing in happiness, so I believe it's confirmed."

"Am I the only one who thought they were gonna be too stupid to realise their feelings?" Lenny questioned, smiling, "They sure showed us."

"Yup. We're the stupid ones now," Karen shook her head in exasperation. She'd wanted them to get over themselves for a long time, but it seems that they'd already figured it out.

The crackling of the fire was the only sound as they all went silent. Until Sadie broke it.

"Wanna bet on how long they've been together?" She twirled a 50-cent coin in her hand.

"Four weeks!" Tilly shouted from the table further away, where she was reading one of Mary-Beth's books.

Lenny shook his head at her suggestion, but still took out a coin of his own, "A month and a half."

"That long? No way! I say a week," Karen challenged.

Javier stopped his strumming, pursing his lips. He thought for a moment before he also gave Sadie a coin. "Charles' reaction was too intense. I bet three months."

Sadie nodded, "Me too. We'll split the money when we're proved right, Javier.'

He grinned at her before starting the song back up.

Glancing at John, Sadie nudged him with her shoulder. "So, you know Arthur better than anyone. What you say?"

He scratched his cheek. Arthur had started acting strange - being nicer around in blackwater. That was almost five months ago.

That, of course, didn't mean it was because of Charles, but, well, it was his only clue.

"Four months, I guess."

Sadie accepted the coin he passed her and smiled at them all. "When they get back, y'all better be ready to lose your money."

* * *

"Arthur! How long have you two been together?"

He raised an eyebrow at Sadie, feeling uncomfortable at the sudden question. "Why?"

"Well, we might have placed bets on it."

He huffed, "'Course you did." He took the saddle off his horse, so they could rest during the rest throughout the day.

She smiled lopsidedly, "So? How long?"

"Uh - four months, I think. Almost five."

Her eyes widened, mouth dropping open. "Goddamnit!" She turned around and yelled, "John, get over here! You were right!"

As she stalked off - grumbling under her breath - Arthur couldn't help but feel that maybe they'd be okay after all. This was his family, they wouldn't care too much.

Charles caught his eye from across the yard and smiled.

Yeah. They'd be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it ! Thank you very much for reading this, I very much appreciate it.
> 
> Maybe this isn't like the usual 5+1 thing fics, but I'm pretty happy with it despite that.
> 
> Kudos and comments always make my days, feel free to leave any requests/prompts down there as well.
> 
> Thank you again :]


End file.
